It was a hard day's night toasting Sam and The Cat

First drink 12.17pm Wednesday with Bob 'The Cat' Bevan, last drink 3.03am Thursday with Sam Torrance. No respite in between. Thanks, lads, and no flowers by request.

Such is now the rivalry between publishers that these shindigs get bigger and boozier by the year. Well, these two were worth the monumental hangover.

The Cat, arguably the funniest contemporary performance on the afterdinner circuit, had to be on top form to beat his personally selected guest speakers. Richard Stilgoe kicked off with dry wit, Lord Sebastian Coe was only serious for one minute out of 10, David Gower shook the rafters with one anecdote quite unrepeatable in a family newspaper and William Hague was so compelling that there were repeated calls for him to resume the leadership of the Tory Party immediately.

And Bob Bevan? 'The Cat' - the pseudonym reflects his career as the world's most penetrable goalkeeper - has a droll delivery and impeccable timing but his sheer genius is his ability to slag off everyone in their very presence without causing the slightest offence.

His book Nearly Famous (Virgin, Pounds 18.99) contains more sporting laughs than you will read in a dozen sports autobiographies. Not recommended for anyone who has recently undergone surgery and wants to keep their stitches in.

I must declare a personal interest here because it is ghost-written by my friend and Daily Mail colleague Alan Fraser, who is just recovering from the experience. Sam trudged 15,000 miles around golf courses, winning 32 tournaments along the way, before his appointment as an inspirational European captain. He admits he was terrified by the prospect of public speaking after the event but held a golf audience spellbound for 62 minutes in an interview with Robert Lee.

Sam Torrance is always at his best, however, after dinner with a cigarette and a glass of whisky. In the early hours of Thursday he simply eulogised about the performance of his 15-year-old son Daniel when they jointly won the pro-am tournament in Scotland last weekend. The Torrance dynasty, founded by Sam's father, Bob, will undoubtedly continue.

The pre-Christmas sports book market will be flooded with new volumes shortly, but here are two among the usual predictable dross that are definitely worth reading.

Was I bribed by all the entertaining?

In the cold light of a rather shaky dawn, I assure you that if either had been rubbish they would not have received a mention.

SPREAD betting is a thoroughly dangerous game, but London's Sporting Index have intrepidly put their heads on the railway line yet again. They reckon that only 58 yellow cards will be shown during the 48-match Rugby World Cup starting next week. They also predict that the fastest try in the tournament will come in 105 seconds.

Personally, I shall be sticking to the odd game of roulette. However, I am happy to report that, in the past, they have come up with predictions which have cost them fortunes.

Three uphold the best of Britain

WHY IS IT that British eccentricity is on the wane?

Our children now seem to lope home to watch Neighbours on television or plant themselves in front of a Playstation for interminable hours.

So let's hear it for the last generation who are struggling to keep the tradition alive.

First, Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham Fiennes, aged 59, who later this month proposes to run seven 26.2-mile marathons on seven continents in seven days.

These, with jet travel in between, will be across the Antarctic, in Santiago, Sydney, Singapore, London, Cairo and New York.

Fortunately, he will be accompanied by his doctor, Michael Stroud, because last year he suffered a massive heart attack.

Second, there is Rosie Swale, who 30 years ago sailed singlehanded around the world and caused quite a scandal by doing so naked when the weather was good. She is now a 57-year-old grandmother and is currently attempting to jog around the world inside two years.

Third is Robert Miller, an American-born British citizen, who set out on Thursday to beat the record for the fastest west-to-east monohull crossing of the Atlantic. Miller is 70, enormously rich, and hopes to complete the crossing in under eight days, 20 hours, 55 minutes and 35 seconds.

Age does not weary them and hopefully all three will emerge unscathed to pass a message on to a younger generation.

Chappell's the mentor for Harry

AS A resolute royalist I am disappointed at the initial reaction to Prince Harry's arrival for his gap year in Australia. He strikes me as being a thoroughly normal teenager, interested in girls and the odd cocktail, but he is being utterly misguided by some London-based idiot ignorant of the fact that Buckingham Palace protocol doesn't cut much ice south of Singapore.

Australians, as I have observed here previously, greet Poms with a warm grip of the windpipe.

Stand up to them immediately and you have loyal friends for life.

Prince Harry, apparently, is going to watch the imminent Rugby World Cup.

This may be the solution. No poncing around with private visits to the dressing room but milling around afterwards with the players in bars. They won't call him 'Sir', but they could well have an influence on his life.

Another thought. If matters don't improve, let him ring Ian Chappell, the former Australian cricket captain (phone number provided to Buck House if necessary) and let him have a mentor who understands how Australia works.

Chappell, an ardent Republican, would probably clip him one without malice if he drank too much, take him home and arrange to meet up next morning for a couple of beers.